The Drying Of Your Tears
by RedMagic
Summary: When the world views everything you feel as wrong, You hold on to the people you meet in your life that understand. Blainchelcest and Quamcest with Faberry friendship, told from Quinn and Rachel's alternating POVs. Multi Chaptered.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** The Drying Of Your Tears

**Fandom:** Glee

**Pairings:** Blaine/Rachel and Sam/Quinn (or blainchelcest and quamcest) as well as Faberry friendship.

**Warnings:** Includes adult themes, coarse language, mentions of attempted suicide, mental illness and incest.

**AN:** Title comes from the song Exit Music (For a Film) by Radiohead. Will be multi chaptered. Song quote for this chapter The Last Night by Skillet.

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**Chapter One**

_I'm so sick of when they say  
It's just a phase, you'll be o.k. you're fine  
But I know it's a lie._

She leaves her parents a note, or rather a three page letter documenting everything wrong they've ever committed against her, imagined or otherwise, everything from not allowing her to have a kitten for her fifth birthday to sending the one person she had in her entire miserable existence away to somewhere they refused to tell her.

Blaine's not just her brother, he's her _everything_, one of her only friends, her soul mate, and the one person to tell her that she's special, _beautiful_ and actually makes her believe it. He's the only person she's ever really loved and now he's gone, because her parents are stupid enough to believe that tearing the two of them apart will solve all their problems. That putting distant between them will stop them from _being in love_.

She tells them it's their fault really, for leaving them alone so much, for never being around when they were needed, they're the reason Blaine and Rachel only had each other, heaven knows their older brother Cooper got out of the house as soon as he could, barely waiting for the candles to be blown out on his 18th birthday cake before he packed his belongings into the boot of his trunk and hit the road, sporadic phone calls no more than three times a year to let everyone know he was still alive.

They'd been alone, just the two of them for so long, it was only natural that they became each other's whole world.

She pores her heart out in that note, lets them know that they were wrong, that Blaine hadn't been taking advantage of her, that she loved him and even if every other person in the world thought that it was wrong, immoral and sick, she would _never_ believe that their relationship wasn't anything except exactly the way it was supposed to be.

Once she was finished she sealed the note with a gold star, and moved on to do what she had to do next.

She had the oddest sense of calm wash over her as she made her way upstairs to her parents room and into their en-suite, it had been over a week since she'd decided that what she was about to do was really her only option, and since then she'd been too busy planning out every detail to really feel here or there about it.

But now, that there was nothing left to do, no more details that needed ironing out, just the certainty of what was about to happen, and she felt unusually sure about herself and her decision and for the first time, since her parents had shipped her brother off, she feels something akin to serenity wash over her mind. For the first time since they tore her world away from her she feels like everything will turn out fine.

She thanks her lucky stars her mother is a neurotic insomniac and stores bottles upon bottles of different sleeping tablets and tranquilizers in her private bathroom, Seconal, Valium, Xanax and an array of others all lined up in the medicine cabinet readily at her disposal. She grabs a few bottles, doesn't bother to check the labels to see what they are, because she knows she has enough of them to do the trick.

She'd contemplated other methods of course, before settling on an over dose, vanity had always been her biggest downfall, and she can't bear the thought of looking anything less than beautiful even in death, besides she hadn't wanted Blaine to be put through the agony of seeing her body mangled in anyway, she wanted to look perfect for him, wanted to look fresh and lovely the last time he laid his eyes upon her, presuming their parents let him come home for her funeral at all.

She knows this is selfish of her really, to take this way out of the mess and leave him here alone, but she'd told him one night, a night that now seems another lifetime ago, as they were curled together on her bed that she would never be able to live without him, and she'd meant it.

He'll forgive her eventually, once he's moved on and carved out a life for himself, found another girl or boy to love him, she'd always suspected she loved and wanted him more than he wanted her anyway, and once she was out of the picture she's sure her parents will ease up on him enough that they could rebuild everything that was destroyed once they'd been caught out.

Cooper may even return home, he'll be the big brother to Blaine that both her and he had wanted him to be, he'll make Blaine better once she's gone, at least she hopes he will.

She makes her way down the stairs, and detours to the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine and a glass, her parents would throw a fit if they knew she was drinking but she surmises that in the grand scheme of things, it doesn't actually matter, very soon she wasn't going to be around to worry about what they think, and it's not like she hadn't done far worse things in their eyes then a little underage drinking.

She sits at the coffee table in the middle of her lounge room, legs folded underneath her as she pours a large glass of Red Wine and starts counting out the pills she's going to need, arranging them into blocks of color, lined up smallest to largest. She's kind of mesmerized by the different shapes and colors before her like some kind of narcotic rainbow.

She reaches across the table to the iPod she has docked her swan song all cued up and ready to go, she switches it on, picks up the first of her tablets and because she's always had a slight flair for dramatics when it came to living her life and doesn't see why she should treat her death any differently, she waits for the first strain of the lyrics to fill the air before she places it in her mouth and swallows.

'_You were once my one companion, you were all that mattered'_ she washes it down with a sip of red wine, her face scrunching up slightly in distaste at the powdery residue left in its wake resting bitterly on her tongue and then she repeats the process, until her eyes begin to feel heavy and she hasn't any energy left to move her body.

She slumps onto the ground, nothing hurting anymore, everything starting to numb in such a blissful kind of way. Her eyes start to drift closed, and her thoughts center around Blaine, the way he holds her close and whispers in her ear when they lie wrapped up together on her bed, the way his eyes twinkle as he laughs, the way he smiles at her like she's sunshine on a rainy day.

She thinks she's vaguely aware of a shriek sounding somewhere in the distance and heavy footsteps heading toward her, but it doesn't matter much. It will be all over in a moment, all she has to do is keep her eyes closed, think of Blaine and wait.

**XXXXXXX**

She awakens in a hospital bed with the sinking realization that she had failed in her suicide attempt.

Her throat feels scratchy and dry, her limbs feel powerless and she has the heaviest feeling in her stomach. Her parents are standing over her bed staring down at her like they barely know her and her father has her note clutched in his hand. Things had definitely not gone as planned.

"Rachel, dear how are you feeling?" Her mother asks, reaching down to squeeze her hand but it does little to comfort her. There's only one person she wants to see right now, one person who she wants touching her, and her mother is definitely not that person.

"I'm fine." She mutters instead, trying without much hope to sit up in her hospital bed, the crisp white sheets below her feeling harsh against her skin. She knows now is not one of those times she should be her usual blunt self and tell her mother the truth. She's pretty sure telling her two parents she felt like a failure for not being able to get the simple act of killing herself right is not something that should be uttered.

"They had to pump your stomach." Her mother doesn't try to soften the news, she doesn't sound angry, or emotional, she just utters the words like she were telling Rachel what day of the week it was, or what the weather were like, just a simple statement of fact.

It's the woman's default setting, always has been. She's pretty sure the only time she's even seen the woman who gave birth to her act out in a somewhat emotional way had been the night her parents had found out about her and Blaine's real relationship and even than she'd shut down quickly and moved into clean up mode immediately.

"When can I go home?" She wants to be in her own room, to dig out Blaine's old School sweatshirt from where she keeps it hidden in her bottom draw and fall asleep wearing it, the smell of him surrounding her so that she doesn't feel so unbearably alone. She wants to be in her own house, biding her time until she can get another chance to do what she'd failed at this time.

"You need to stay overnight for observation, it's hospital policy" her mother informs her, her father who has still yet to speak refuses to look her in the eye and it worries her "But once you _are_ released you won't be returning to the house."

She wasn't sure she heard her correctly, how could she not be returning to the house, unless her parents had decided to send her away like they had her brother, send her to some un-named school in the middle of god knows where so they didn't have to deal with all the problems having a suicidal teenager underneath their roof would entail "What do you mean, not returning to the house?" She asks cautiously.

"We found a facility, your mother and I have already made the arrangements," It's the first time her father says a word, his voice is thick and hoarse and his eyes bounce around the room almost like he's too ashamed to even look at her "they're expecting you there tomorrow night."

"A facility, you're sending me to a nuthouse?" she sits up, anger clouding her vision "I'm not crazy!" she should have anticipated this type of over reaction from them, but then again she hadn't expected to be around to see any reaction from them at all.

Her mother clears her throat shooting a warning look at her before she can say anything else "It's not a nuthouse, it's a specialized care facility that deals with teenagers who have _unique_ social problems." Her mother glances over to her father and the letter held in his hand "They'll be able to help you."

It's crystal clear to her now that she's not being sent to this facility because of her suicide attempt, the reason she's being sent is because of what she had written in the letter, her parents still not willing to accept her side of things "Haven't you been paying any attention at all?" her voice grows loud, anger making her hands shake as she fights to stay steady "I don't need help; I just need Blaine, why can't you see that?" she's on the verge of tears, frustration and solemnness warring within her "Why can't you _just tell me where he is_?"

"Regardless of what you wrote in that letter," her father lifts the hand containing the letter, the paper making a crinkling sound as his grip on it tightens "Regardless of what you believe, what you and your brother were doing isn't _normal_."

They want to fix her that much is clear, and her agitation reaches a fever pitch as she works herself into a frenzy of tears, she doesn't want to be sent away, she doesn't even want to _live_, not without Blaine and she's so tired of hearing about how wrong they were, how unnatural and unhealthy, and the fact that her parents won't even try to see things from her point of view, the fact that they just seem to want to lock her away until her feelings somehow miraculously disappear seems more abnormal to her than the love she feels for her older brother ever will.

'You can't do this! You can't _make_ me do this!"

"It's already done Rachel;" Her mother's stern voice is the only thing that stops her from flipping out and throwing a diva fit unlike anything anyone's ever seen "we'll leave you to get some rest now, tomorrows a big day."

Her parents leave, her mother's expression neutral as she marches out the door, her father glances back once, but his expression is unreadable and she can't find it in herself to care what he's thinking or feeling anyway. Not when he's just had a hand in ruining her life for the second time.

Not when it's so clearly obvious that her parents don't give a damn about what she really needs at all.

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_Chapter Two should be up sometime late next week. Feedback is welcomed and encouraged._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

_**Don't hold out for rescue.  
None can hear your call,  
Till I have wrest and wrecked you  
Behind these fortress walls.**_

_**-**_**Margaret In Captivity (The Decemberists)**_**  
**_

Quinn Fabray was a pretty lie, sealed in a box of self-loathing and decorated with a bow of shallow bitchiness. She was the cliché head cheerleader, the shoe in for Prom Queen, the girl every other girl loved to hate and now she was locked in a mental hospital.

Of course the Doctors and Nurses preferred to call it a 'Treatment Centre' but one of the perks of being the world's biggest liar, was being able to see through the world's biggest lie's and calling the place she'd been forced to spend the last year of her life anything other than a mental hospital was just another way of taking something ugly and making it seem bearable.

The truth of the matter was, even though to the outside world she'd always appeared to be so in control, so poised and perfect, inside she was anything but and when her façade had inevitably cracked, when all her deepest, darkest secrets had started to come to light, no one had been able to handle the truth, no one that is of course, except for her.

Her parents are deeply religious in the way only upper middle class people can really be, whenever it suits their cause. Her father will quote whole passages of the bible to impress work colleagues or the local council men that frequent their house for dinner yet he has no qualms about forgetting which commandments he's supposed to be following when he cheats on her mother with every intern, temp and receptionist that works in his building, the same mother who attends all the church bake sales and sits front and center in a pew beside her father, brother and herself every Sunday yet will drink herself into a stupor Monday to Saturday.

She had never really understood how her older brother had grown into the man he was, so bashfully adorable, sensitive yet strong, growing up in the same house as her and her parents, who were in her opinion essentially the worst kind of people, he was only a year and a half older than herself but Quinn had always thought he seemed to have everything figured out, he seemed to have all the answers.

She worshipped him really, in a way that wasn't strictly allowed, she adored the very ground he walked on, which is essentially what has gotten her into the mess she's in now. Locked in a hospital, with a bunch of other sexually depraved teenagers.

Only she's never really thought of herself in that way. She knew technically speaking that sleeping with one's blood relation was frowned upon, she knew that falling in love with her brother made her a freak, an abomination in the eyes of God and society but she'd never really cared, still doesn't all that much, but she failed to see how that warranted being made to spend an indefinite amount of time hidden away in a home for people who she actually thought were bigger freaks than herself.

Not that anybody else saw it her way, the counseling group she was forced to attend three times a week was small, only three other patients, all female at the therapists request, yet she'd never bonded with the others, hated them really if she was being completely honest, hated the way they looked at her like she was something of an anomaly to them, some alien being they couldn't quite understand because she happened to be in love and enjoy having completely vanilla sex with some one that shared her genetics.

Tina Cohan Chang, sixteen years old major masochist with a vampire fetish and a nasty cutting problem, still less of a freak than she was, Santana Lopez seventeen year old sexually fluid nymphomaniac who had slept with three of her prior therapists before Dr. Pillsbury took over her case and was now not so subtly aiming for her fourth, still less of a freak than Quinn was, Mercedes Jones fifteen year old chronic Exhibitionist who was caught swapping pictures with 30 year old men over the internet, still less of a freak.

At least in their eyes.

So Quinn pretty much sticks to herself, spends her days hating the fact that she's forced into sharing feelings and talk out her nonexistent problems and then curls up in bed at night and cries herself to sleep, because it's been over a year since she's heard from Sam, and that hurts worse than anything she's ever had to endure.

Because disregarding the fact that he was her brother, she had thought he was her Prince Charming, her hero, and it kills her a little inside every day that he just up and left her, to deal with the fall out of their affair on her own. Yet she still wishes he'd come and save her now and that fact was probably what hurt most of all.

"Quinn." She's startled out of her thoughts by the slightly squeaky voice of her main therapist, Emma Pillsbury, red hair, doe eyes with a highly annoying need to ease everybody's troubles "We have a new girl who's just arrived and I believe the two of you actually have a lot in common." She raises an eyebrow at this but let's the good doctor continue "I was hoping you'd maybe take her under your wing, make her feel at home."

She's pretty surprised actually, that Emma would come to her but than a thought hits her "By something in common do you mean we're both what?" she speaks eyeing the older woman with curiosity, tinged with just a touch of suspicion "Blonde ex cheerleaders with a soft spot for bacon or we're both in here for fucking our brothers?"

"Quinn!" she forgets sometimes that out of session times Dr. Pillsbury is actually kind of terribly prudish, especially when it comes to what she deems inappropriate language.

"Well sorry, but I'm curious," she is admittedly a little sorry she's making her therapist uncomfortable with her bluntness, Emma being maybe the only staff member that actually seemed to genuinely give a damn in the place "I've been here almost a year, I don't remember you asking me to take Tina Cohan-Masochist under my wing last month when she arrived."

"Please Quinn, just try." She stares down at her, just the right mix of caring in her voice, the kind of caring a person just knows is for real "This new patient, Rachel, she's in a very delicate place right now, I think she could really benefit from having a friend in here and it just might do you some good as well."

They lock eyes in some sort of stare down, Dr. Pillsbury's unrelenting doe eyes doubling in size. Quinn huffs giving in "Fine, I'll see what I can do," she sighs as the therapist grins somewhat triumphantly "But I'm not promising anything, if she gets on my nerves I'm walking."

She doesn't see the harm in it really, Emma had always been nice to her even in her more wildly unresponsive moments, the least she could do was introduce herself to this Rachel girl.

"That's all I ask." The red head smiles at her with something akin to pride before walking off in the direction of the staff offices and Quinn, alone once more, is left with her thoughts.

**XXXX**

"We got caught, there was this guy at school he hated Sam, but he wanted to date me, he caught us, took a picture, and before the week was out everyone knew," Every time she has to retell her story it feels like the first time, the heartbreak is still so fresh and raw, the tears still threaten to fall.

The new girl isn't looking at her like the rest of them do though, her eyes don't hold judgment and condemnation like Mercedes do, or vague disinterest like Santana's, no Rachel's hold compassion, but what's more there's a deep kind of sadness and empathy shining through that makes Quinn believe she might not be so alone in this place anymore and that maybe sometimes Dr. Pillsbury is surprisingly right about things.

She draws a certain kind of strength from the brunette girl, sitting in the corner, she's sure it's the way she seems to be actively soaking in Quinn's story and even though she looks like she's about two seconds away from breaking, there is a quiet sense of strength about her.

"Sam confronted him, there was a fight, we were called the guidance counselors office and our parents were there. They threatened to separate us, but Sam left before they had a chance."

_There would be no rest in the Fabray household tonight, of that Quinn was sure. As her parents continued to yell backwards and forward, the fight about Sam and Quinn ending the moment Sam stomped out of the room and moving into a fight about which one of them was to blame for their children's immorality starting, they forgot she was still even in the room._

_So she left as well, racing up the stairs and into her brother's room, to find him throwing things haphazardly into one of the large overnight bags they usually used when they went camping._

"_Sam what are you…" he turns to look at her, his eyes are bloodshot and his skin is pale, just like her own are "You're leaving."_

"_It's for the best." He turns to his bedside table a grabs a picture frame from inside the top draw, she doesn't have to see the photo to know it's probably one of her; he places it in the bag he's packing as well stopping a moment to swipe the sleeve of his letterman jacket across his nose._

"_Give me 10 minutes to get my things together." She turns to run into her room, but his voice, hoarse with unshed tears and regret stops her._

"_Q, you can't come with me."_

_The sentence makes her feel like she's been hit in the stomach repeatedly with a heavy object "But, you said you loved me, you said we were going to be together no matter what." she ducks her head, her hair falling across her face, covering the tracks of the tears that now spill from her eyes._

_He's confusing her, breaking her heart, but he wasn't supposed to do this, out of all the boys in the world, he was never the one that was supposed to break her. He fixed her, he was the one that was supposed to take all the tiny shattered fragments and make her whole, that was his job, he made her better and loved her and made her believe that she was capable of loving in return._

"_And I meant it," He walks toward her, his hand coming up to rest on her shoulders as his other cups her jaw and gently nudges her face up so that he can look at her, eyes never leaving her face, almost like he's memorizing it " But right now we can't." _

"_Please don't," her hands fist into his jacket tightly as she begs him "Please don't leave me here alone with them Sammy, please."_

_He wraps his arms around her, pulls her close as she un-furls her hands and wraps them around his back clasping tightly not wanting to let go "I have to, I'll find a way to contact you Q, I promise this won't be forever." He brushes his mouth against hers in a kiss that says everything left unspoken, she can taste the saltiness of their tears combined on his lips, and she can feel the sting of good bye as he pulls back "I've got to go."_

_He pulls away completely, is out the door before she can try to stop him again, the space he once occupied feeling empty and cold to her._

_She sinks on to his bed, clutches his pillow and prays that she'll wake up from whatever bad dream she's currently having, because this can't be real, she doesn't want it to be._

"He left me alone to deal with everything myself" she trembles a little reliving the night her and Sam had said goodbye, her vision blurring as the tears build up yet continue to not fall "A few weeks later my parent's sent me here because they didn't want to deal with their embarrassment of a daughter anymore."

As she finishes she thinks she may see the new girl brush a few stray tears discreetly away from her own face, and it's weird that, for the first time since she's had to repeat her tale for newcomers, she isn't being laughed at or told she's disturbed.

Dr. Pillsbury excuses them for the day, and she's pretty much set on talking to Rachel, she's intrigued enough to want to know about this girl, but the brunette is the first one to leave, rushing out the door before Quinn can collect herself enough to approach her and the moments lost.

But the clinic is small so it shouldn't be that hard to find her, and that's exactly what she decides she's going to do.

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_Reviews are encouraged._


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